


You Don't Get Me High Anymore

by slipperysailors



Series: Mean Modern [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Porn, Drug Use, How Do I Tag, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Late Night Writing, M/M, Modern Era, Rough Sex, Sad, nice things? i dont know her, ppl keep telling me this is sad so it’s sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:50:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slipperysailors/pseuds/slipperysailors
Summary: Geralt likes to fuck around with Jaskier when Yen and him are going through shit in their relationship,Jaskier's had enough.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Mean Modern [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861747
Comments: 43
Kudos: 234
Collections: The Witcher Alternate Universes, these bitches gay! good for them!!





	1. Eyes of the Devil

Geralt likes to fuck around with Jaskier when Yen and him are going through shit in their relationship

And god it fucking _hurts_ Jaskier that Geralt doesn’t see him as anything more than a fuck, something to use

Jaskier’s not a fuck object, but he can’t, _can’t let go of Geralt. _Because_ this,_

The hell he subjects himself to, letting Geralt knock on his door, hunger in his eyes. Jaskier stands aside, let’s him in, because he has too, his body aches, needs to be touched by Geralt. To have Geralt’s fingers scraping into his skin, leaving red and purple as his only mark on Jaskier. There’s nothing else for him to give,

Oh god, how he wants it to be gentle, tender, just once. Just _once_ Jaskier wants to hear his own name come out of Geralt’s mouth like a prayer.

Rather than Geralt’s eyes shut tight, riding out his orgasm with Yennifer‘s name on his lips.

He wants Geralt to kiss him, tell him that he _cares_, because Jaskier has _no one _else. He wants Geralt to stay over, wake up next to him, instead of rushing to button up his jeans and leave as quickly as he got there.

There’s always a dry spell, where Yen and Geralt get back on track, Geralt doesn’t text him, come to his door for months.

Jaskier thinks, _finally_, maybe he’s free, maybe he’ll find another guy, maybe he’ll stop sobbing himself to sleep over his heartbreak

And then, that night, the familiar hammering is on his door and Jaskier just, _no_, he-

_Can’t_. Can’t do it anymore.

Geralt’s shouting now, screaming to Jaskier to let him in,

Jaskier finds his body has it own mind, he wants to turn back, go back to his bed and continue sobbing

But he goes to the door, and cracks it open with the latch on,

And stares at Geralt, who’s stopped banging now, and can see the state Jaskier’s in

The tears silently rolling down, the snot running from his nose, the mess of hair, his unshaven beard, how he doesn’t look like he’s slept or eaten in fucking weeks because Jaskier’s so fucking _tired_, tired of letting Geralt wall all over him

Geralt gets quiet, staring right back at Jaskier through the slightly cracked door,

“Go,” He whispers through the door,

“Jaskier- can we, talk about this?”

“_**Get the fuck away from me.**_”


	2. You Don't Get Me High Anymore

_ **“Get the fuck away from me.”** _

Geralt steps back from the door, and he _stares_

Can’t rip his eyes from what he’s created.

Jaskier watches, intently, lets Geralt soak it all in, watches the guilt form into Geralts brow,

And Jaskier realises he can smell the beer from behind the door,

Realises none of this means _anything, _this is just drunk Geralt wanting,

Wanting a quick reliable _fuck_.

That’s when it _hits._

_Hits_ Jaskier right in the fucking jaw, _hits_ him like his mother’s funeral, _hits_ the final acceptance of death,

how genuinely pathetic he is, waiting around for a man, who was _never_ going to love him

_Never_ going to choose him.

He blinks, dazed by the swell of emotion and,

Slams the door in Geralt’s face.

Then he fucking _breaks. _He lets all the emotions drench him, lets the tears come, the saltiness, the ugly crying, the panic in his throat, the hyperventilating

And he does nothing to stop himself because this,

_ **this** _ ** _was_ _the last time_**

The last time he let himself be walked on, taken for granted, and _used_.

He doesn’t need it, doesn’t need Geralt anymore,

Doesn’t need his touch, his teeth, his _devotion._

Jaskier _needs_ nothing, _wants_ nothing, and _desires_ nothing.


	3. Let It Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prequel, about 8 months before.

It had begun quite easily, Jaskier had wondered into a bar, looking to for no one, looking to just do to _something_ other than trap himself with too many swear bodies.

The atmosphere was different,

The bar seemed to strain at the sight of an unfamiliar man, tense at his every move,

The guy was huge, muscular and he held his head down, white hair flowing over his back, and sat with in a corner, watching the bar and sipping into a pint glass,

Surrounded by plenty of empty glasses,

And Jaskier, _simply_, wondered over.

Looking back, he questions if it was the pills that helped him make the decision,

The rush of drugs finally hitting through his system,

That made him stride straight over to him.

Made him feel an invisible tension, the invisible voice of influence, an unknown attraction to him.

“Mind if I sit?” He asks,

The guy barely nods, and looks away from him,

So he sits opposite the guy, and takes in his full face, his unmoving expression of indifference,

Jaskier can’t keep still, his fingers keep tapping drumming,

muscles keep shaking and he really knows he’s maybe gone too far, maybe too many pills, maybe he should go back to the club, go back to the idiots

The groping, the grinding and the fast heart beats,

The dilated pupils and confessions of false love,

Go back to where everyone is the same.

He looks at the man again,

“Hey, I like your hair,”

The man looks up and eyes him, acknowledging his voice,

“I’m Jaskier,”

“Geralt.”

Jaskier’s _hooked_ from the moment he speaks, his rough voice stirring in Jaskier’s brain like a new kind of music,

Involuntarily, Jaskier’s legs kick up into the table

And Geralt’s pint spills a bit,

“Sorry, I want to get out of here,” He says, particularly trusting to the stranger,

Geralt nods, gulps down whatever is left in the glass,

And leads the two out, they stare at each other for a while,

Jaskier shaking a little from the cold breeze and possibly the pills,

“My flat is five minutes from here,” he tells Geralt, who nods,

Let’s Jaskier take him away.

The minute they get passed the threshold, Jaskier doesn’t really understand what he’s doing,

Part of him knows this will be _difficult for him,_

He’s on E for Christ sake, but he wants to be _touched_, and _fucked_, but they’re awkward and new to each other-

Geralt doesn’t _care._

He starts by clutching onto the hem of Jaskier’s button up,

Tugging it out from his jeans, Jaskier catches on pretty quickly and starts to undress himself as well,

Geralt does not.

Jaskier’s fully naked, Geralts fingers running around his skin,

Jaskier should have know when he saw that Geralt’s eyes were closed.

But he grabbed Geralt’s wrist, guides it, to his unclothed cock, and Geralt takes it in a firm grip.

The touch is _euphoric_,

It tingles, spreads across his skin, lights up a new world of sensation in Jaskier,

And his brain kicks into gear, he’s completely focused,

There’s a beautifully calloused hand stroking his cock,

He whimpers a little, his own fingers trying to curl around the man’s clothes, trying to feel some of skin that’s not Geralts face pressed into his neck,

Geralt biting down to leave _marks_,

There’s his other hand, lifting Jaskier by the ass, shoving Jaskier high up against the wall, holding him,

_Stroking_ him,

Jaskier can feel the _strain_ of Geralts cock up against his jeans, he takes his hands away from running them in Geralt’s hair,

Geralt _growls_,

Jaskier puts one of his hand back, and gets a firm grip, and tugs Geralt’s face away from his body,

And tries to capture Geralt’s mouth with his,

“No kissing.”

Jaskier pouts, but complies, and buries himself into Geralt’s collar bone instead,

And he bites into Geralt’s shoulder, muffling his voice into the skin,

Geralt moves them, still carrying Jaskier around,

Finds the bedroom and lays him out, Jaskier immediately reaches for the night stand, grabbing lube and hands it to Geralt,

Who has the same static expression from the bar,

As he pours it into his hands.

Jaskier doesn’t know why, but,

_It_ has to be Geralt,

Jaskier wants his _touch_, it’s the only thing he wants,

_Needs_ to feel Geralt’s hands,

Geralt’s _cock_ inside him.

“Turn the light _off._”

Jaskier quickly scambles over to the lamp,

And then, Geralt _grabs_,

_Spreads_ Jaskier’s legs, slots himself inbetween,

And he feels a thick cool finger slip into his ass.

Jaskier’s brain lets him feel a moment of _pure pleasure,_

The sensational feeling of having his insides touched is like nothing he’s ever felt before,

Jaskier feeling his skin unfolding, _vibrating_,

Feels the heat settle firmly in his chest,

And then Geralt keeps adding more, loosening Jaskier.

“_I need you_,”

Geralt side eyes him in the dark,

Fingers still pumping and stretching him,

Geralts undoing his belt, taking down his jeans, and-

Jaskier doesn’t _see_,

He _feels_ it,

Feels it all sliding in, Geralt holds himself, stares from above at Jaskier,

Watches Jaskier’s face contort and, the glint of sweat that lines his body,

Runs down his sweet pale skin,

Feels Jaskier _tighten_ around his cock.

He chucks his head back,

Starts thrusting slowly but,

Each time gets _faster_,

_rougher_,

Jaskier fucking _loves_ it.

It was all he could think about,

The way it _tingled_ through his nerves and,

_Consumed_ his whole being,

and _god,_

_fuck_-

“I’m _close_,” he hisses, voice high,

Geralt grunts like a rutting _animal_,

Pins Jaskier down further into the bed,

And fucks him _harder_,

If it _hurts,_

Jaskier _doesn’t_ fucking notice anymore,

The way it suddenly feels as if _nothing_ exists,

S_wallows_ him,

he’s inhaling Geralt’s rich scent,

His muscles _tense_ and _contract_,

Geralt’s breathing heavy into his neck,

_He_ _fucking_ _comes_.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by these songs:  
\- Eyes of the Devil by Seether  
\- You Don't Get Me High Anymore by Three Days Grace  
\- Let it die by Three Days Grace  
\- Gone Forever by Three Days Grace  
\- Walk Away From The Sun by Seether
> 
> Tumblr:  
https://slipperyseamen.tumblr.com/


End file.
